


In The Darkness

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-11
Updated: 2009-06-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip and Malcolm get caught in a storm, and must find a way to protect each other against the planet’s dangers at all costs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Title: In The Darkness
> 
> Author: Padawan Jess Kenobi
> 
> Disclaimer: Ahh if only Trip could be mine…
> 
> Summary: Trip and Malcolm get caught in a storm, and must find a way to protect each other against the planet’s dangers at all costs. Pretty much a Trip and Malcolm friendship fic.

â€œShit, Malcolm, wake up,â€ Trip whispered urgently, shaking his friendâ€™s shoulder roughly.  
He could hear the howling of the creatures in the distance, getting closer with each passing minute. Night was falling quickly now, and with it, the temperature. The storm was getting worse, and the winds ripped through the air around them. Trip felt a violent shiver course through his body, and he fought to steady his trembling hands.   
Trip tried the communicator again and resisted the urge to throw it into a tree when it sputtered lifelessly. The storm was interfering with the communicatorâ€™s ability to function, though he couldnâ€™t figure out why.  
â€œCome on, theyâ€™re getting closer, and they sound like they want round two,â€ Trip joked, though if Malcolm were awake he would have seen the worry lines on the Commanderâ€™s face. There was still no response from the unconscious Tactical Officer, and Trip sighed in frustration.  
â€œLieutenant Reed! Wake up, thatâ€™s an order!â€ Trip barked out severely, but it only elicited a quiet moan from the man. â€œDamn Brit,â€ Trip muttered angrily.  
The beasts howled again, and this time they were close enough that Trip could hear individual pitches among the group. He looked around hurriedly, searching for an escape nearby. All around him on three sides were treacherous rock walls, with narrow ledges and steep inclines, riddled with a few larger slabs of rocks that jutted out. The beasts that drew near couldnâ€™t possibly balance upon the thin ridges, so Trip knew that he had to get him and Malcolm up high enough on the wall to be safe until Malcolm regained consciousness. Trip thought back to the events that had occurred in the last ten minutes while he formulated a plan to get them both up the rocky wall.   
Captain Jonathon Archer, Tâ€™Pol, Malcolm and himself had taken a shuttlepod down to the planet earlier that day to take some readings, and to collect samples. The sun had been shining brightly that afternoon, and if not for all Tâ€™Polâ€™s constant warnings of being cautious, Trip would have sworn he was back in Florida. They had decided to split into two groups, and meet back at the shuttlepod in five hours, whether they had collected all the samples they needed or not. Tâ€™Pol had stressed, in her usual flat voice, the importance of being off the planet before nightfall, which was often riddled with storms and freezing temperatures.   
Tâ€™Pol had also cautioned Trip and Malcolm about the huge indigenous creatures that resided on the planet. They were highly predatory, and very dangerous, but they only came out at night. Or so her sources had indicated her.  
Trip and Malcolm had been taking samples and scanning the area when the storm started. It began as a chilly breeze, but then the wind started to whip the trees around, sending branches and leaves flying carelessly.   
â€œMaybe we should head back,â€ Malcolm had suggested, to which Trip nodded.  
â€œThe Capâ€™n wonâ€™t be happy if weâ€™re late,â€ Trip agreed. â€œIâ€™ll bet you Tâ€™Pol already made him go back to the shuttlepod,â€ he added with a laugh.  
The two men had been packing up their gear when Malcolm heard a rustling in the bushes in front of them. He froze, his hand instinctively going to the phase pistol at his hip.  
â€œDid you hear that, Sir?â€ Malcolm asked tentatively, his sharp eyes surveying the area.  
Trip looked up for a second and listened closely, then shook his head. â€œItâ€™s just the wind,â€ he said dismissively, a split second before the bushes seemed to come alive and spring at them. Five wolf-like animals appeared suddenly, their massive, muscled bodies leaping through the air with astounding speed.  
Malcolm, ever the alert Officer, had been able to shoot two of the beasts before a third had gotten past his phase pistol and bit him savagely in the arm. He had yelled in surprised pain and Trip had just managed to turn and shoot the beast off of Malcolm before it had been able to deliver a killing blow. The Armory Officer had looked his way with a faraway expression on his eyes, and then had keeled backwards, unconscious. The distraction had cost Trip his concentration or a split second, and one of the two creatures that were attacking him swiped at him with a giant paw the size of Tripâ€™s torso.   
Trip had gone flying a few meters back, landing just short of being thrown into the rock wall behind them. He skidded against the ground and felt his ankle snap under the impact. He groaned at the shock of pain that traveled through his leg, but had turned around and shot the two remaining creatures in the neck before they could attack him or Malcolm again.  
Trip had run over to Malcolm, his heart in his throat as he realized that his friend wasnâ€™t moving. He pulled out the medical kit he knew Malcolm always carried in his backpack, and threw various equipment out onto the rocky ground before he found the medical scanner he was looking for. He ran it over Malcolmâ€™s still body, finding nothing wrong with the man except for a strange substance in his blood stream. Trip had little medical experience, but considering that Malcolm seemed to be in a stable enough condition, he supposed the substance could be some sort of sedative secretion from the animalâ€™s teeth.   
His worry had subsided as he realized that Malcolm was merely unconscious and didnâ€™t seem to be in any immediate danger. He had knelt by the British manâ€™s side for ten minutes trying to rouse him from his unconsciousness, but the Officer just wouldnâ€™t wake up, though his breathing and other vitals were perfectly normal. 

â€œAlways gotta makes things difficult, donâ€™t you Malcolm,â€ Trip muttered under his breath, pushing away the memories as he returned to the present task.   
He jabbed the darker-haired manâ€™s shoulder a few more times in an attempt to wake him, but it was to no avail. Trip leaned over and sat Malcolm up, and was discouraged when Malcolmâ€™s head lolled to the side languidly. With a grunt, Trip hauled the Security Officer up onto his feet, though Trip let out a string of curses as they both almost crashed to the ground again.   
â€œThis would be a hell of a lot easier if youâ€™d help me out, you know,â€ Trip said through gritted teeth, wincing as his ankle protested against his movements. His ankle was surely sprained at the very least, probably fractured, and his head throbbed mercilessly. The cold wasnâ€™t helping either as shivers ravaged his body relentlessly.  
Trip eyed the steep wall warily, but decided he had no other choice. The beasts were merciless and predatory; there would be more of them, and they would track the two men down easily. And with Malcolm unconscious for who knows how much longer, Trip couldnâ€™t risk trying to run through the forest and back to the shuttlepod. He wondered how Captain Archer and Tâ€™Pol were doing, and hoped they were having better luck than him and Malcolm.   
Trip quickly pulled some rope from the belt around his uniform, and tied it securely around Malcolmâ€™s chest a few times. He tugged on it to make sure the knots would hold, and then tied it to himself. For once Trip was glad for Malcolmâ€™s propensity for being prepared for anything, as the Tactical Officer had finally convinced him to bring rope along on their mission â€œjust in case.â€   
â€œLucky guess,â€ Trip mumbled to himself and his friend, even though he knew he couldnâ€™t hear him. He leaned down and grabbed Malcolm around the chest, heaving him up. This time the Commander was able grab Malcolmâ€™s legs before they gave out again, and he half-carried, half-dragged the man over to the rock wall.   
Another pack of beasts howled collectively again, and Trip tried to block out the thought that the pack must be right behind them by now. The engineer put his foot on a ledge that jutted out and started to climb carefully. His injured ankle almost collapsed under his weight, but he gritted his teeth and pushed the pain aside. The rope that connected him and Malcolm was still limp, but as Trip hauled himself up to the next ledge, it became taut. Trip took a deep breath and slowly pulled himself up a few inches, praying that the rope would hold the Lieutenantâ€™s weight.  
Trip exhaled in relief as Malcolmâ€™s lifeless body raised off of the rocky floor about three inches, but his relief was short lived as his arms began to tremble at the effort of carrying an extra manâ€™s weight. He breathed heavily at the exertion, but continued to climb as quickly as he could. He was convinced his ankle was going to give out any minute, but continued to press on. Despite his determination, he was still moving slowly, too slowly to reach a large ledge that jutted out a few meters ahead of him. He could hear and feel the approach of the beasts; they were almost here.  
Trip looked down to check his progress, and to make sure that Malcolm was still tied securely. The knots seemed to be holding surprisingly well, and Trip turned his attention back to the task. He grunted in pain and exhaustion as he struggled to muscle his way to the next ledge. His fingers and hands were cut from the rough rock, and the blood was streaming down his arms. His injured ankle gave out for a second, and Trip slipped, sending dust and pebbles into Malcolmâ€™s face.   
â€œSorry,â€ Trip muttered to his unconscious friend. Trip looked up at the broad ledge he was struggling to reach; it couldnâ€™t be more than a meter away. He should be able to reach it in less than a minute. He was about to reach for the next ledge when a loud growl behind him froze him to the spot.   
Trip turned his head to see a pack of about eight of the huge beasts standing not twenty feet away from them. The creatures were huge and hideous; with matted brown fur stained with what Trip could only imagine was blood and dirt. They had three rows of razor-sharp teeth that they all bared in vicious growls. Trip looked down at his belt that held his phase pistol, but he couldnâ€™t reach it while he was still holding on to the ledge.  
The leader of the pack walked towards him slowly, teasingly, the others following a few steps behind. Trip exhaled nervously, and looked down at Malcolmâ€™s body that dangled a few feet below him. If the beasts were to jump, they would be able to reach the unconscious man with their paws, probably even their teeth. Trip looked back up at the big ledge, and then back down to his friend.   
He quickly moved sideways and up a little until he found a ledge large enough that he could place both feet on it and balance sufficiently well. Trip wriggled his feet as deep into the wallâ€™s rocks as he could until he felt amply confident in his balance, and grabbed the rope that ran from his belt to Malcolmâ€™s body. He leaned down slowly, praying that he wouldnâ€™t fall, or drop Malcolm, but his balance held. He quickly grabbed the rope in his hand and pulled up.   
He felt his balance slip slightly and he instinctively grabbed onto the wall with one arm so as not to topple off of his perch. Despite the biting frost of the night, beads of sweat ran down Tripâ€™s face as he lifted Malcolm using only the strength of his arm. He was almost blinded by pain and fatigue, but he kept going until Malcolm was almost at the same level that he was. The howling wind threatened to rip him from the rocks and throw him like a leaf, but Trip held on tight.   
Tripâ€™s concentration almost snapped when he heard the sound of the beastâ€™s claws scratching the rock wall. One of them had jumped up, but the two men were now just out of its reach. Trip could reach the broad outcropping of rock by stretching his arm up high. He held Malcolm securely next to him, and paused to catch his breath. The beasts underneath him stared up at them hungrily, and Trip could almost feel their hot breath on the back of his neck, even though they were below him.   
Malcolm groaned and moved his head suddenly. Trip looked over at him, and felt a wave of relief wash over him as the man groaned again. His eyes were still closed, but it seemed as though he was coming out of unconsciousness slowly.  
Trip felt the rock he had lodged his feet into become looser suddenly, and he looked down. One of the beasts was still jumping up in an attempt to reach the men, and as its huge paw came in contact with the rock wall, it swiped away a part of the ledge. Rocks tumbled down, and Trip hugged the ledge and Malcolm more securely to his body.  
Malcolm groaned again, and this time his eyelids fluttered open slowly. He seemed disoriented and looked around him in confusion. â€œWhatâ€¦ Commander?â€ he croaked as his eyes finally started to focus slowly.  
â€œItâ€™s sure nice of you to join me, Malcolmâ€ Trip muttered sarcastically.  
â€œWhereâ€¦ where are we?â€ Malcolm asked groggily. â€œWhy canâ€™t I move?â€  
â€œIâ€™ll explain it later, Iâ€™m a little busy right now,â€ Trip growled. â€œIâ€™m gonna get you up on that ledge and then we can talk, ok?â€ He untied the rope that bound him and Malcolm together, removing it from himself and draping it around Malcolmâ€™s shoulders.   
Malcolm just groaned in response and struggled to open his eyes further. Trip used all the energy left in his body to painstakingly lift Malcolm up into his arms. â€œCan you move at all?â€ he asked, his voice thick with effort.  
â€œOnly my left arm a little bit,â€ Malcolm responded, sounding a little more like his usual self, though he still clearly did now know where he was.   
â€œI could use any help you can give me,â€ Trip said as he cried out. His arms and legs trembled violently as he lifted Malcolm over his head sloppily, almost losing his equilibrium again.   
Malcolm seemed to suddenly be aware that he was dangling precariously off of a rock wall, and his eyes widened suddenly. â€œWhat the hell are you doing?â€ he asked, voice tinted with shock and fear.  
â€œShut up,â€ Trip growled, â€œor Iâ€™m gonna drop you off this wall so you can go say hi to our little friends down there.â€  
Malcolm couldnâ€™t get his neck muscles to work to lift his head, but he could see the beasts down below in his peripheral vision. They were growling and hissing as they clawed at the air in anger.  
Trip took a few deep breaths and suddenly heaved Malcolm into the air with energy he didnâ€™t know he had. The Lieutenant was thrown onto the ledge, where he tottered close to the edge. â€œYou might wanna use that left arm a bit right now,â€ Trip suggested sardonically.  
Malcolm groaned and moved his arm the furthest it could go. He grabbed weakly onto the edge of the rock and pulled himself an inch away from the edge. â€œBlasted body wonâ€™t cooperate,â€ Malcolm snarled in frustration at himself.  
Trip hugged the ledge he stood on, panting so hard he couldnâ€™t see straight. His muscles ached, and his ankle was on fire, but he knew he had to get on that ledge. He took out his phase pistol and swiveled carefully to partially face the beasts below. He fired once, and one of the creatures fell to the ground with a horrifying yelp of pain.  
â€œThatâ€™s a warninâ€™,â€ Trip shouted weakly at them as the beasts stopped for a moment as if confused. He reached up to grab hold of the ledge, but he slipped suddenly as the rock under his foot gave way. Trip fell a couple of feet down the wall before he was able to catch himself roughly. He cried out at the jolt of pain that ran through his shoulder, and the throbbing in his ankle.   
â€œ Trip!â€ Malcolm shouted, his slightly slurred words now sharp with worry. â€œAre you injured?â€  
Trip didnâ€™t even have a chance to respond before he felt a knife-like pain cutting into his chest, and then he was falling again, but this time he couldnâ€™t catch himself. He hit the ground hard, and felt the air leave his lungs immediately upon impact. His vision swam as he struggled to remain conscious, and everything around him was still blurry when a large dark mass appeared in front of his eyes. He fought to clear his vision, but even before he could see straight, he could feel the hot breath on his face, and hear the guttural growl of one of the beasts.  
Trip slowly reached down towards his belt to grasp his phase pistol, trying to make his movement imperceptible to the animal. â€œMalcolm?â€ he gasped, hoping his friend could hear him. He wheezed for air painfully, guessing that he had a broken rib that was inhibiting easy breathing.  
â€œCommander! Are you alright?â€   
â€œUmâ€¦. Iâ€™ve been better. Howâ€™s that left arm coming along?â€ Trip asked, moving his mouth as little as possible. He stared the beast straight in its depthless black eyes, eyes that seemed to glint with its intentions.   
â€œI can almost move it completely, Sir,â€ Malcolm responded. â€œWhere are you?â€  
â€œI could really use your help with a phase pistol right now,â€ Trip implied testily, though he was attempting to keep his voice stable so as not to incite the animal that hovered over him.  
â€œSir?â€ Came Malcolmâ€™s confused answer, from far above.  
â€œIâ€™m about to get eaten, Malcolm, you think you could help me out?â€ Trip shouted up, just as the beast reared opened its great mouth, revealing its rows of huge, sharp teeth. It seemed to grin at him for a moment before it jerked its head downwards, its movements lightening fast.  
Trip rolled over instinctively, and he could feel the brush of fur against his back as the creatureâ€™s mouth narrowly missed his body. He cried out in pain as his body bore the brunt of his quick movement, he Trip knew now was no time to take inventory of his injuries. He reached for his phase pistol and shot the beast in the leg twice. It went down with a loud howl, its black eyes searching in confusion. The other creatures seemed to pause for a moment and then sprang forward in unison.   
â€œNow, Malcolm!â€ Trip shouted, just as Malcolmâ€™s face appeared on the ledge above him. His head lay against the rocky outcrop and his body still seemed uncooperative. A light sheen of sweat shone on his face, and he shakily held his weapon in his extended left arm.  
Malcolm quickly shot one of the approaching creatures, sending it sprawling onto the ground. His aim was a little off due to his poor position and obstructed vision, but he managed to drop two more in less than twenty seconds. Trip got out his weapon as he stumbled to his feet only to sway dizzily, sending his shot careening past the hoard of beasts. His next shot was more precise, leaving only three more of the monstrous creatures to deal with. Malcolm finished them off for him, but not before one of the beasts managed to get close enough to Trip to swipe at him. Trip dodged the blow, but the claws still tore at his clothing, reducing the front of his shirt to bloody tatters as the nails ripped deep wounds into his chest. The beast dropped dead from Malcolmâ€™s shot a moment later, its huge body heaving once last shuddering breath.   
Trip allowed himself to collapse onto the ground as he gasped for breath. The monsters were either dead or injured; the hurt ones running back to the forest, yelping loudly.   
â€œAre you alright, Commander?â€ Malcolm yelled down, his voice laden with concern for his superior and friend.  
Trip shut his eyes and leaned back on his elbows to try to dispel the pounding in his head and body. â€œJust feelinâ€™ like Iâ€™m missinâ€™ a few vital organs,â€ he called back as he tried to suck in air.  
â€œThere may be more packs of those beasts, you need to get to safety,â€ Malcolm said, his gray eyes scanning the distance.  
â€œIâ€™m workinâ€™ on it,â€ Trip said back, though the painful constriction of his lungs caused his words to come out weak.   
â€œStay right there, Iâ€™m going to come down and get you, Commander,â€ Malcolm said as he started to shift slightly towards the edge.   
â€œWith what, your arm?â€ Trip called back sarcastically, forcing his eyes open to look at his friend. Besides the fact that Malcolm could now lift his head a few inches off of the rocky surface, he clearly had no more mobility over his body than he did earlier.   
Malcolm lay silently for a minute, racking his brain for an answer. â€œCan you get up?â€  
â€œYeah, just give me a minute,â€ Trip responded, shaking his head to try to dispel the blurriness.  
Malcolmâ€™s typical paranoia and worry was completely functional despite the immobility of the rest of his body. He knew that he had to get Trip up to that ledge as soon as possible, and that time was not a luxury they had at the moment. He could see that his Commander was injured and bleeding heavily, and he had to be tended to at once.   
â€œIâ€™d strongly suggest you move now, Mr. Tucker, I need to treat your wounds immediately. If those animalsâ€™ teeth produce a sort of sedative and temporary-paralysis-inducing secretion, there is no telling if its claws have a similar, or worse, attack mechanism. We need to find a way to get you up here,â€ Malcolm said, his eyes roaming over his surroundings as he wracked his brain for a way to get Trip up safely.   
Trip moaned softly, but knew that the Lieutenant was right. â€œI guess youâ€™re feelinâ€™ better,â€ he said as he pushed himself into a sitting position, and took as deep a breath as he could manage. â€œDonâ€™t expect to hear this often, but you were right,â€ he called up weakly.  
â€œAbout what?â€ Malcolm asked, knowing immediately that Trip was trying to distract himself from the pain by talking.  
â€œBringinâ€™ that rope wasnâ€™t a half-bad idea.â€  
Despite the circumstances, Malcolm smiled. â€œAre you implying that my cautionary methods arenâ€™t always â€˜ridiculously unnecessaryâ€™ as youâ€™ve been prone to calling them?â€  
â€œDonâ€™t get too excited, Malcolm, I didnâ€™t say that. But I might just take to carryinâ€™ rope with me on away missions from now on,â€ Trip joked as he hauled himself to his feet roughly.  
Malcolm laughed softly, though it died on his lips a moment later as he saw Trip stagger a few feet, where he luckily managed to catch himself on the rock wall. He leaned against it, panting wildly, his face white with exertion. He suddenly noticed the drop in temperature, and the way his teeth were chattering loudly. The winds were rougher now, and they threatened to push him over in his weakened state.   
â€œIâ€™m assuminâ€™ the communicator still doesnâ€™t work, right?â€ Trip asked, though he already knew the answer. It didnâ€™t work before when the storm was just getting started, so it probably wouldnâ€™t work now.   
Malcolm knew it wouldnâ€™t work either, but he tried it anyways, for Tripâ€™s sake. He struggled to move his only working limb at the moment to grab his comm., and attempted to contact the Captain, Tâ€™Pol, and Enterprise. He could reach none of them.  
â€œAny luck?â€ Trip asked, though his voice didnâ€™t hold much hope.  
â€œIâ€™m afraid not, Commander,â€ Malcolm answered.  
â€œDamn,â€ Trip swore, â€œI sure hope the Capâ€™n and Tâ€™Pol are having better luck than us, and they managed to find shelter, or get back to the pod.â€  
â€œTâ€™Pol surely would have been extra-cautious in allowing plenty of time for them to reach the pod before the storm started. Sheâ€™s good at that sort of thing, you know,â€ Malcolm replied as he unwound the rope slowly from where it was tangled around his body.  
â€œThatâ€™s true, sheâ€™s a stickler for whatâ€™s logical,â€ Trip replied with a pained grin as he cautiously extended his leg to see how much weight it could hold. â€œWe werenâ€™t doinâ€™ so bad ourselves until we got attacked by those damn animals.â€  
â€œI should have seen them coming, Commander, Iâ€™m sorry,â€ Malcolm apologized grimly, thinking that Trip was holding him responsible for what happened.  
â€œI got my own eyes, Malcolm, I didnâ€™t see them either,â€ Trip said bluntly, looking up at his friend.  
Malcolm had managed to disentangle himself from the rope, and glanced around him in an effort to find a rock that jutted out high enough that he could swing the rope around it. He lifted his head to search the area better, and then let out an excited cry.  
â€œWhatâ€™s the matter, you ok?â€ Trip shouted up immediately, his blue eyes tinged with concern.  
â€œI can move my head!â€ Malcolm said eagerly, his voice uncharacteristically high. He swiveled his head a few times to discover that he had regained complete mobility of his neck muscles again.   
â€œThatâ€™s lovely, really,â€ Trip said, rolling his eyes. â€œCan you move any slightly more useful limbs? Like, I donâ€™t know, another arm or a leg or somethinâ€™?â€  
Malcolm concentrated hard and attempted to move his body again, finding that only two fingers on his right arm would cooperate additionally. â€œOnly my right thumb and pointer finger,â€ he answered dimly, his elation dissipating.  
â€œWe must be the two unluckiest bastards in the universe,â€ Trip said with a grimace as he lifted an arm and grabbed onto a ledge wearily, his bloodied hand stinging against the dust of the rocks. He went to lift his left arm and cried out at the unexpected pain. He let out a string of curses under his breath as he cradled his injured arm to his chest.  
â€œWhatâ€™s the matter down there?â€ Malcolm asked, his head poking over the side again. He had managed to tie the rope he had brought to Tripâ€™s rope, doubling its length. He had then looped the connected ropes around a large rock and lowered one side until it reached the ground at Tripâ€™s feet.  
â€œNothinâ€™, Iâ€™m fine,â€ Trip said dismissively, though it was far from the truth. He looked at the rope, and then up at Malcolm. â€œHow am I supposed to climb this if itâ€™s not attached to anythinâ€™?â€ he asked.  
â€œIâ€™ve wrapped it around a rock, itâ€™s quite secure, I assure you,â€ Malcolm answered matter-of-factly. â€œIt will act as a sort of pulley system, allowing me to draw you up with more ease.â€  
Trip laughed, though it turned into a wheeze a moment later that left him gasping for breath. The wind whipped at his face, its icy touch so cold that it seemed to cut his skin. â€œAnd how do you intend to pull me up with one operational arm, Malcolm?â€ Malcolm opened his mouth to answer, but Trip cut him off before he could. â€œOf course, I forgot about the two fingers and the neck, too- those should really do it,â€ he said sarcastically.  
â€œCynicism doesnâ€™t become you, Commander,â€ Malcolm answered calmly, for once not allowing Tripâ€™s words to bait him. â€œBesides, isnâ€™t it you who always says that nothing is impossible unless you start to think it is?â€  
Trip grinned up at his friend, and despite the freezing cold, there was warmth in his eyes. â€œSo you do listen to me sometimes, donâ€™t you?â€  
â€œDonâ€™t get too excited, Mr. Tucker, I didnâ€™t say that,â€ Malcolm responded cheekily, repeating what Trip had said to him ten minutes ago.  
Trip grinned again, the crooked smile giving him an endearing look. He nodded, licked his lip, and raised his eyebrows in acceptance. â€œAlright, letâ€™s give this thing a try, then,â€ he said, grabbing onto the rope with his uninjured arm. He took a deep, painful breath, and lifted his injured arm to grab the rope also, biting back a cry of pain. He limped as close to the wall as he could get, and placed one foot on an outcropping, and supported his weight.  
Malcolm nodded, and wordlessly grabbed the rope tightly in his hand. He pulled it as tight as it could go, and focused on keeping it taut. Trip looked up and sighed, letting the air out slowly through his nose. He tugged on the rope doubtfully to make sure that Malcolm could hold him. The man looked down at him, and Trip was surprised to see a trace of disappointment in his steely gray eyes.  
â€œYou have to trust me,â€ Malcolm said seriously. His dark hair was matted to his forehead with perspiration and he looked exhausted, but there was a determination in his face that was unmistakable.  
â€œI was just testing the rope,â€ Trip answered back as cheerfully as he could, but then his voice became serious. â€œI do trust you, Malcolm, completely.â€  
Malcolm nodded and said nothing, but his eyes perceivably softened.   
â€œOk, so on three Iâ€™m gonna push up with my legs, and youâ€™re gonna pull at the same time. But since you only got one arm, Iâ€™m then gonna grab a hold of the ledge so you can reposition yourself and pull again. Sound good?â€ Trip said, waiting for Malcolmâ€™s nod of approval. â€œOk then, oneâ€¦ twoâ€¦ three!â€ On three Trip pushed up with his uninjured leg and was held up only by the rope for a few seconds.   
Malcolm was almost dragged forward and off the edge at the sudden weight, but he fought it determinedly, using only the muscle of his arm to keep Trip suspended in the air. The rope cut against the rock it was wrapped around, but Malcolm knew it would hold.   
â€œOk, Iâ€™ve got the wall, you can let go,â€ Trip called from down below, and Malcolm was only too happy to comply. He panted from the exertion, but immediately grabbed hold of the rope again, pulling the limp rope until it was taut again.   
â€œReady?â€ Malcolm called down, his inquiry met by a wearied â€˜yes.â€™ Malcolm counted to three out loud and then pulled back with all his might, his forearm muscles burning with protest.   
Tripâ€™s own body seemed past the point of exhaustion, but he would not give up. As Malcolm held the rope tightly, he yelled up for him to hold it a few seconds longer than planned. Trip painfully pulled himself up about a meter, biting his lip so hard that it drew blood so as not to cry out. He then found a place where he could hug the rock wall again, and did so gratefully. â€œOk!â€ he called up, and heard Malcolmâ€™s gasp as he released the rope.  
The two men continued in this way for what seemed like hours, though in reality it couldnâ€™t have taken longer than twenty minutes. Malcolm pushed through his exhaustion as he heaved one more time, and when he saw Tripâ€™s face grinning wearily back at him from over the ledge, he thought it must be a fabrication brought on by pure exhaustion.  
â€œDonâ€™t just stare at me,â€ Trip grunted as he held on to the ledge and struggled to pull himself over it.  
Malcolm immediately dropped the rope and reached over with his good arm, grabbing Tripâ€™s hand. He pulled with all the strength remaining in him, and the Commander was just about over the edge when he slipped suddenly, and seemed to fall in slow motion.  
â€œNo!â€ Malcolm shouted, and shot his arms down to catch his friend and pull him back up.  
Trip stared at him in disbelief, and then his gaze fell to Malcolmâ€™s arms, both of them, that were still on his shoulders. â€œYou couldnâ€™t have used your other arm earlier?â€ he gasped, scrambling weakly onto the broad ledge that Malcolm was laying on.  
Malcolm looked equally shocked as his bent his right arm, surprised that it was working again. â€œBelieve me that if it had been functional earlier, I most certainly would have used it,â€ he answered, too tired to even try to sound frustrated.  
Trip nodded and closed his eyes, trying to get his wheezing breaths under control. Every intake of air felt like a knife being driven into his chest, but he fought to control the pain. He opened his eyes again, and saw that Malcolm was still laying on his side, too weak to even attempt to right himself into a sitting position.  
Trip leaned over, ignoring the screams of protest from every muscle and injury in his body, and grabbed his friend around the shoulder. He pushed at Malcolm until the manâ€™s back was leaning against the rock wall, and his legs were splayed out, useless for the moment until he regained their function.   
â€œThanks, my neck was starting to hurt from lying in that position,â€ Malcolm said, though his words were interspersed with gasps. He reached over into an emergency kit he always brought with him in his small backpack and drew out a small medical scanner. He hovered it over Tripâ€™s body, moving it up and down slowly, his eyes glued to the readings the scanner was giving him.  
â€œDamage report?â€ Trip asked, sounding almost like he was inquiring about the state of a banged up shuttlepod instead of his own body.  
â€œTwo broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder along with some damaged tendons, fractured ankle, and deep slash wounds to the torso area,â€ Malcolm responded grimly.  
â€œNothinâ€™ Doctor Phlox canâ€™t fix,â€ Trip responded, sounding more cheery than he actually felt.   
â€œNow let me get a look at those claw marks, Iâ€™m going to need to clean and bandage your wounds.â€ Malcolm put the scanner down and put the medical kit into his lap as he looked around for what he needed.   
Trip shook his head wearily, reaching up with a trembling arm to stop Malcolm. â€œYouâ€™re exhausted Malcolm, rest for a few minutes and then we can think about that.â€  
Malcolm shook his head stubbornly, â€œI need to treat those right away; there is no knowing if those creatures have some sort of toxins in their nails that could affect you-â€  
â€œIn a few minutes, Malcolm,â€ Trip repeated, pinning his subordinate down with a glare.  
â€œBut-â€  
â€œDonâ€™t make me order you to stay put like a puppy, Lieutenant,â€ Trip commanded, stressing Malcolmâ€™s rank in an icy voice that held no room for argument.  
Malcolm stared at him, his mouth gaped open. â€œFine, have it your way, Commander. But if you die in the next few minutes, I wonâ€™t feel one bit responsible,â€ Malcolm retorted, locking the blonde man with his own steely look.   
Trip burst out into a sudden lopsided grin, and arched an eyebrow. â€œUnderstood,â€ he answered, shooting Malcolm an amused look. Upon receiving nothing back but the harsh stare, Trip sighed. â€œI appreciate your concern, donâ€™t think that I donâ€™t, but if I havenâ€™t died yet, I probably wonâ€™t in the next few minutes. Catch your breath, and then we can worry about these scratches.â€   
Malcolm gave him a look that clearly implied his disagreement, but his eyes were no longer steely. He leaned his head back against the rock and closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to rest. He rubbed his sore and burning left arm, trying to massage some of the pain away.  
Trip leaned his own head against the wall once he saw his friend do so, and reflected on the injuries Malcolm had said heâ€™d sustained. Two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, fractured ankle, and pretty deep claw wounds. In light of things, it definitely could have been worse, Trip thought to himself optimistically, his reaction dampened by a violent shiver that wracked his exhausted body. It must have been close to the tenth hour, though the moon shone almost as bright as a lighthouse beacon upon the land.  
Malcolm opened an eye and looked at Trip, who was still slumped against the wall. A guilty expression crossed Malcolmâ€™s face as he surveyed the other manâ€™s injuries, and it made Malcolm want to bash his own head against the wall behind him. After the creature had bit him he had felt a dizzying pain, and then had clearly lost consciousness for an indeterminable amount of time. When he had finally woken up, heâ€™d been surprised- to say the least- when he learned that he was dangling off of a great cliff wall, over a large pack of ravenous beasts. Trip had been holding him against the cliff, and even in his numb state, Malcolm had been able to feel the great strain running through Tripâ€™s body. Trip had then done the impossible, and had lifted Malcolm over his head, all but throwing him onto that ledge, and into safety.   
Malcolm remembered the way he had looked over the edge of the rock, unable to move anything but his left arm. He had seen Trip grasp another rock and then suddenly he had slipped. The man had seemed to fall so slowly, and Malcolmâ€™s heart had stopped in his chest. He was sure that Trip had been-   
Malcolm shook his head harshly to dissipate the thoughts, but it did nothing for the shame he felt. Trip had almost died because of him, because he was so damn selfless in trying to save him first. Malcolm reached out and gently shook the Commanderâ€™s good shoulder, bringing him out of his dazed thoughts. â€œWith all due respect, itâ€™s been a few minutes,â€ Malcolm said quietly as he reached for the emergency kit and his flask of water.  
Trip nodded and looked down at him, and the disarray that was his shirt. â€œI must look a bloody mess,â€ he said, mocking Malcolmâ€™s pleasant British accent teasingly.  
Malcolm didnâ€™t smile as he looked over his friendâ€™s injuries sadly, and with guilt. â€œYou look terrible,â€ he muttered, his voice full of self-loathing as he opened his flask of water.  
â€œHey now,â€ Trip said indignantly, â€œthatâ€™s just not true. Commander Charles Tucker III always looks good,â€ he joked, flashing Malcolm a cocky grin.  
But Malcolmâ€™s face was still serious despite Tripâ€™s jesting. He silently moved the bloodied tatters of Tripâ€™s shirt out of the way, and poured water on the slash wounds. Tripâ€™s face went pale, and he drew in a sharp intake of breath, half from pain, and half from the shock of the icy air hitting the water. Malcolm took out a piece of cloth and began to dab Tripâ€™s wounds as gently as possible, cleaning the blood out.   
Trip watched Malcolmâ€™s impassive face as he worked automatically, doing a thorough job of cleaning the cuts. Trip furrowed his eyebrows in frustration as he broke the silence. â€œPlease tell me youâ€™re not feelinâ€™ responsible for some ridiculous reason,â€ he said, clearly annoyed.  
Malcolm said nothing, but continued to work, keeping his eyes downcast. He started to wrap the wounds as best he could, but the contents of his medical kit were limited. He was about to bandage another cut when Tripâ€™s hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his arm roughly.  
Malcolm lifted his head in surprise, his eyes meeting Tripâ€™s furious glance. â€œAnswer me,â€ he growled.  
Malcolm let out of a hollow, humorless laugh as he wrenched his arm out of Tripâ€™s grasp. â€œYou almost died because of me,â€ he spat, self-hatred in his voice. â€œYou risked your life to get me to safety and then you fell and there was nothing I could do about. I was so damn useless up there, safe on this ledge while you were down there, injured and alone.â€  
Trip was momentarily taken aback by his friendâ€™s painful honesty, and the hurt in his voice. â€œThatâ€™s not true, Malcolm,â€ he said softly after a moment of tense silence.   
â€œIt is, and you know it-â€ Malcolm started, before Trip cut him off sharply.  
â€œWould you let me finish?â€ Trip shouted, cutting him off impatiently. â€œYou shot those beasts off me, remember? You were there for me, though you managed to incite a period of suspense by waiting a couple seconds before you shot them, but I can forgive you for that,â€ he said lightly, trying to cheer his friend up. Malcolmâ€™s expression didnâ€™t change the slightest though, and he still looked miserable.  
â€œLook,â€ Trip began again, his tone serious. â€œIf you want me to be honest, I didnâ€™t have a momentâ€™s doubt that you would shoot those creatures before they got to me. I know you, Malcolm, and I knew youâ€™d be there. Thereâ€™s nothinâ€™ useless about you, never has been. Hell, you practically lifted me up that wall single-handedly, no pun intended,â€ he said with a small smile.  
Malcolm felt some of his tension leave him, but he was still doubtful. â€œBut you put yourself at risk to save me. Iâ€™m the shipâ€™s Security Officer, I should be the one keeping you safe, and-â€  
â€œShut up,â€ Trip groaned, rolling his eyes. â€œIf you have any sense of duty, you should be savinâ€™ me from your incessant need to apologize and take the blame for things that arenâ€™t your fault. If I thought you were to blame, you know I sure as hell would tell you,â€ Trip said frankly.  
Malcolm knew that was true, his friend usually was bluntly honest about most things. He didnâ€™t know what to say, but allowed a small smile to grace his lips before he continued to bandage the rest of Tripâ€™s wounds. The two friends passed the time in silence, each battling with their own pain and injuries, but neither complaining.  
Tripâ€™s teeth chattered together loudly again as another violent shiver coursed through his body, but this time it didnâ€™t seem to stop. The shudders aggravated his wounds, and caused him to groan softly in agony. Malcolm was instantly digging into his small bag, and managed to pull out a decently sized blanket. He draped it over Tripâ€™s body, and watched to make sure that the Commanderâ€™s cold spasms subsided. Trip gratefully started to tuck himself in, but then stopped to raise an eyebrow at Malcolm.  
â€œI canâ€™t take this if youâ€™re just gonna be sittinâ€™ there in the cold,â€ he said, starting to take the blanket off of him.  
â€œThatâ€™s very chivalrous of you, Sir, but thatâ€™s not necessary,â€ Malcolm quipped, as he reached into the backpack again and pulled out a second blanket, which he placed on himself.  
Tripâ€™s mouth dropped open comically, and he eyed the small backpack curiously. â€œHow the hell did you fit all this in there? Better question, why do you have two blankets?â€  
â€œDid you bring one?â€ Malcolm asked rhetorically, already anticipating Tripâ€™s negative answer. â€œIt seems my paranoia has once again served you well,â€ he said, using his arms to push himself into a more comfortable position.  
â€œCanâ€™t argue that one,â€ Trip agreed, burrowing himself deeper into the blanketâ€™s warmth. He was still cold, but he no longer felt as though he was going to turn into a human icicle at any given moment.  
â€œHow are those injuries doing, Commander?â€ Malcolm asked after a couple minutes of content silence.  
â€œWell, the good news is that all my limbs all still attached to my body.â€  
â€œThe bad news?â€ Malcolm asked, tilting his head to look at his friend.  
â€œThe bad news is that they would hurt a lot less if they werenâ€™t,â€ Trip answered wryly.  
â€œI wish I could give you a shot for the pain, but I donâ€™t want you to get drowsy. Neither of us should fall asleep in this cold, thereâ€™s a distinct possibility of catching hypothermia and then never waking up,â€ Malcolm said, in his usual clipped tone of voice.  
â€œThatâ€™d be mighty unfortunate,â€ Trip agreed.  
The two men passed a few minutes more minutes of silence, each man trying to gain control over their own injuries and pains.  
â€œCan I ask you a question?â€ Trip said suddenly, breaking the quiet.   
â€œSure, Commander,â€ Malcolm responded, though there was clearly an edge of reserve in his voice.  
â€œYouâ€™re aware that my friends all call me Trip, right?â€  
â€œIâ€™m aware,â€ Malcolm responded in confusion, unsure of where this was going.  
â€œAnd you are aware that youâ€™re allowed to call me that as well, right?â€ Trip said slowly, as though speaking to a dog.  
Malcolm paused for a moment in thought. â€œI suppose,â€  
â€œSo why donâ€™t you?â€  
â€œI presume itâ€™s because I was always taught to address my superiors by their rank, not by their names. I would never have called a man who outranks me by anything but his title, even if I respected him greatly-â€  
â€œYou respect me?â€ Trip interceded with a mischievous grin.  
â€œI didnâ€™t say that directly,â€ Malcolm sputtered, clearly embarrassed by what he had said and trying to find the least possible pride-reducing way out.  
â€œYou respect me!â€ Trip said again, thoroughly enjoying teasing his friend, who was now a deep shade of red not caused only by the cold.   
â€œI- shut up.â€ Malcolm stammered ungracefully. â€œI donâ€™t think youâ€™re completely incompetent,â€ he admitted quietly after a few seconds of looking into Tripâ€™s grinning face.  
â€œWell!â€ Trip exclaimed, leaning his head back against the rock wall. â€œComing from you, thatâ€™s good enough for me,â€ he said with a small laugh, followed by a wince at the shot of pain throughout his body.   
â€œBesides, how do you get Trip from Charles anyways? If you ask me, itâ€™s a bit ridiculous, and not at all logical,â€ Malcolm said, attempting to divert the conversation away from his embarrassing vocal admission that he found Trip to be a very good Officer.  
â€œYouâ€™re soundinâ€™ like Tâ€™Pol with a British accent, and itâ€™s a little frighteninâ€™,â€ Trip responded cheekily, giving his friend a pointed look.   
Malcolm was about to retort when a howling sound cut the night air, so close that both men jumped a little. Malcolm peered over the edge of the outcropping of rock and down to the ground below. Six pairs of eyes stared back icily at him in the night, and Malcolm drew his phase pistol reflexively.   
â€œAh, let â€˜em be,â€ Trip drawled. â€œThey canâ€™t hurt us from way down there. Poor bastards are just hungry.â€  
Malcolm arched an eyebrow and regarded his friend with an almost incredulous look. â€œYou almost became their dinner earlier, and if Iâ€™m not mistaken, Iâ€™m sensing sympathy in your voice?â€  
â€œEmpathy, Malcolm,â€ Trip stressed, his blue eyes bright in the moonlight. â€œItâ€™s different. They donâ€™t have Chef to prepare them a synthesized meal whenever theyâ€™re hungry, they gotta make do somehow,â€ he said wisely.   
â€œYouâ€™re quite the character, Mr. Tucker,â€ Malcolm responded, but he had to agree, and put his weapon away.   
â€œBesides, look at us!â€ Trip exclaimed a moment later, gesturing under his blanket. â€œWeâ€™re Senior Officers on one of the most prestigious Starfleets ever to roam the galaxyâ€¦ of course we look delicious!â€  
Malcolm found himself laughing uproariously at the ridiculousness of Tripâ€™s statement, and even though his chortles aggravated his aches and pains, if felt good just to laugh. When he was finally able to control the mirth he leaned back again, and drew his legs closer to him without thinking. He rested his head on his knees and sat there for a couple seconds before the realization of what he just did hit him. His face broke out into a smile as he bent and unbent his legs experimentally. He got to his feet, ignoring the sharp pangs of pain throughout his body and the overwhelming tiredness, and took a few happy steps.   
Trip felt the movement and looked over at him. â€œWould you look at that,â€ he said, watching his friend. â€œBabyâ€™s first steps,â€ he said with a laugh.  
Malcolm just chuckled good-naturedly as he lowered himself gingerly to the ground, placing the blanket over his body happily.   
Trip pulled the cover over himself even higher so all that stuck out into the cold night air was his head, the stormy wind ruffling his hair in every direction and tinting his cheeks red. He closed his eyes again in an attempt to stave off the dizzy spell that came over him suddenly. The bandages around his chest seemed to get tighter with each breath he took, constricting his lungs until he felt like he was drowning. Trip fought the sensation, knowing it was just all in his head, and he could beat it.  
â€œI donâ€™t suppose youâ€™ve got any food in that magical backpack of yours, do you? Iâ€™m starved,â€ Trip said, his voice hazy in his effort to control the pain.  
Malcolm thought for a second and then rummaged in the backpack, pushing aside various objects until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a portion of something long and brown that looked rather unappealing, and held it out to Trip.  
Trip scrutinized it with a disgusted look on his handsome face. â€œWhat in the hell is that?â€ he asked, not bothering to hide his revulsion.  
â€œEmergency rations,â€ Malcolm answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
â€œI understand that, but what is it, â€œTrip asked impatiently.  
â€œIâ€™m actually not quite sure,â€ Malcolm replied honestly, tearing the long brown bar in half. â€œBut if youâ€™d rather, Iâ€™m sure that your friends down there could help you hunt for something a bit more exotic,â€ he said sarcastically, taking a bite of his half of the food.  
Trip peered over the edge and saw the same six pairs of eyes that had looked up at Malcolm earlier now staring steadily back at him. Trip straightened slowly and looked over at Malcolm again, shrugging his shoulders.  
â€œIâ€™d ask â€˜em, but they donâ€™t look like the sharinâ€™ type,â€ he said, taking the food from Malcolmâ€™s hand and taking a bite. â€œYou know,â€ he said thoughtfully after swallowing, â€œminus the injuries, the freezinâ€™ cold, the lack of a fire, marshmallows or a tent, and disregardinâ€™ the brush with death earlier, this is kinda like campinâ€™.â€  
Malcolm shot him a look that clearly communicated his disagreement as he rubbed his hands together underneath the blanket to keep himself warm. â€œIs that so? He asked noncommittally, watching as his breath came out in a white puff, and then disappeared.  
â€œWell, sure!â€ Trip exclaimed cheerfully. â€œAll you really need is a good buddy, and a clear view of the sky,â€ he said, lifting his gaze to the stars above.  
â€œHave you always been this irrepressibly optimistic in dire situations, Mr. Tucker?â€ Malcolm asked, though he felt a smile tug at his lips.  
â€œWhen it is darkest, you can see the stars,â€ Trip intoned solemnly, his eyes tracing the various constellations and clusters above them.   
â€œRalph Waldo Emerson?â€ Malcolm asked, unable to conceal the amazement in his voice. â€œYou know of him?â€  
â€œI guess all the Superman comic books were checked out of the library that day,â€ Trip shot back sarcastically, teasingly referring to a comment Malcolm made some time ago about Trip probably only having read comic books and no real works of literature.   
â€œTouchÃ©â€™,â€ Malcolm replied as he raised his hands in surrender and laughed.  
Trip grinned back, and drummed his fingers against his good knee. He leaned back and closed his eyes, as with another bout of dizziness washed over him, along with a sudden wave of exhaustion. The howling of the wind and the savageness of the storm should have deterred him from thoughts of sleep, but for some strange reason he found the wildness of the weather to be almost comforting at the moment. Even the biting cold seemed to be a strange invitation of slumber. He yawned, though the immense intake of breath hurt his ribs, and shifted under the blanket slightly.  
Malcolm, attentive and observant as always, caught Tripâ€™s yawn immediately. â€œYou should get a few hours of sleep before morning, Sir,â€ he suggested.  
Trip forced his eyes open and looked at his subordinate. Malcolmâ€™s eyes had dark circles under them, and the man looked exhausted, but Trip knew he was far too proud to ever admit it. Trip reluctantly straightened again as gently as possible, and fixed what he hoped was an awake and alert look on his friend.  
â€œI thought I was goinâ€™ to die of hypothermia if I fell asleep?â€ Trip jested pleasantly.  
â€œWell if you start to look like youâ€™re about to become deceased, Iâ€™ll consider waking you up,â€ Malcolm said sardonically, his efforts at appearing serious failing.  
â€œNow thereâ€™s a faithful Officer,â€ Trip joked, an amused look on his face. â€œBut Iâ€™m not really tired, why donâ€™t you get some sleep instead? And then I can be the one considerinâ€™ whether to wake you up or not, if I feel like it.â€  
â€œYouâ€™re exhausted, Commander,â€ Malcolm pointed out.  
â€œAs are you, Malcolm, you donâ€™t hide it as well as you think you do,â€ Trip said, just as sharply.  
â€œI still recommend that you sleep a little, you might look a little less banged up for when we have to see the Captain tomorrow.â€  
Trip grimaced at the thought, and ran a hand through his hair, though he immediately brought the hand back under the warmth of the blanket a few seconds later. â€œI canâ€™t say Iâ€™m lookinâ€™ forward to the chewinâ€™ out heâ€™s gonna give us,â€ Trip said with a sigh.  
â€œI doubt heâ€™ll put us together for away missions again anytime soon,â€ Malcolm agreed lightly, though he was genuinely a little concerned about what Archerâ€™s reaction was going to be. He didnâ€™t want to be a concern or liability for the Captain, and he surely did not want Archer to believe that he was incapable or under qualified for any missions.  
â€œWe sure do seem to get in a lot of trouble,â€ Trip said with a laugh. â€œBut câ€™mon, despite the injuries, the potential hypothermia, the grief we cause the Capâ€™n, and the fact that we canâ€™t go anywhere without somethinâ€™ goinâ€™ wrong, weâ€™re damn good at keepinâ€™ things interestinâ€™.â€  
â€œThatâ€™s a good way of putting it, Sir, though I doubt the Captain will see things your way,â€ Malcolm responded.  
â€œProbably not, but he does have to admit that we make a good team,â€ Trip replied good-naturedly. â€œThe Capâ€™n believes that Iâ€™m reckless and donâ€™t think things through sufficiently, and he thinks youâ€™re overcautious enough for two people. Put us together and you get an almost perfectly balanced Officer!â€  
Malcolm laughed his quiet chuckle and shook his head. â€œYouâ€™re right about that one, Trip,â€ he said, â€œand I think the Captain might subconsciously know it, though he wouldnâ€™t want to admit that.â€  
â€œI wasnâ€™t goinâ€™ to point it out â€˜cause I didnâ€™t want to make you self-conscious or anythinâ€™, but you just actually called me by my name,â€ Trip said, self-satisfaction in his voice.   
Malcolm paused a bit, and re-played his own comment in his head. â€œI suppose I did,â€ he said slowly and a little awkwardly. It didnâ€™t feel like the breach of protocol that he would have expected, instead it felt normal, as if he had just simply addressed a friend instead of a superior officer.  
â€œSee Malcolm, youâ€™re good at blowinâ€™ shit up, and Iâ€™m good at winninâ€™ people over,â€ Trip said in a jokingly cocky tone of voice.  
â€œIt appears that way,â€ Malcolm said simply, but he knew it was true. Trip was the person he felt closest to on the ship, though he never would have guessed that would happen. They had strikingly opposite personalities most of the times, and their opinions usually clashed, causing them to argue often. And yet for some reason Malcolm couldnâ€™t fathom, they were great friends.  
Trip seemed to know what he was thinking, and he smiled knowingly. The two friends spent the rest of the early morning hours in alternating moments of comfortable silence, arguments, and jokes.   
When the storm finally let up and the sun broke through, it shone with the intensity of a summerâ€™s day. The two men looked up to a sapphire sky brimming with birds and other indigenous creatures that sparkled with colors plucked directly from a rainbow.  
And when Tripâ€™s communicator buzzed to life, and Jonathon Archerâ€™s voice crackled on the other side, Trip could barely contain a smile even though the Captain sounded worried and irate. Malcolm, on the other hand, snapped to attention as surely as if Archer had suddenly appeared next to him.  
â€œTrip, are you and Malcolm all right?â€ Archer asked, sounding for all in the world like an exasperated and concerned father.  
â€œWeâ€™re fine, Capâ€™n,â€ Trip answered, looking down at the injuries he and Malcolm had sustained.  
â€œThat means weâ€™re bringing a medical team on the shuttlepod,â€ Archer answered, and Malcolm could hear a bit of humor creeping into his voice now that he was assured that they were generally in one piece.   
â€œYou know us too well, Capâ€™n,â€ Trip responded, too cheeky to even try to sound sheepish.   
â€œYouâ€™re going to have to deal with Tâ€™Polâ€™s version of an â€œI-told-you-soâ€ speech upon coming back to Enterprise, and my own as well,â€ Archer said. Though he was serious and still rather angry because he had worried all night about his two Officers, he couldnâ€™t help smiling a little.  
â€œWouldnâ€™t miss it,â€ Trip said with a smirk, rolling his eyes at Malcolm. â€œOh and you might want to bring some climbinâ€™ gear when you come get us, by the wayâ€ Trip added suddenly, if a bit vague.  
Archer paused on the other line, and the two Officers could hear him sigh. Trip could just imagine Archer closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. â€œWeâ€™ve locked on to your location; weâ€™ll be there in a few minutes.â€  
â€œUnderstood,â€ Trip responded.  
Trip turned the communicator off, and looked over the ledge where the beasts had stayed. They were gone, having retreated to shelter where they would most likely rest for the day until they came out at night again.   
â€œEven the beasts donâ€™t want to be around when the Capâ€™n chews us out,â€ Trip said with a snort.   
â€œSmart,â€ Malcolm agreed as he started to pack the blankets and medical kit back into his tiny backpack.  
â€œIf itâ€™ll make you feel better for gettinâ€™ into trouble with the Capâ€™n, I can tell him that youâ€™re an exceptionally well-prepared Boy Scout,â€ Trip teased.  
Malcolm shot him a glare, and would have playfully swatted his friend in the shoulder if not for the manâ€™s injuries. â€œCome on,â€ Malcolm said, putting the backpack down, â€œlet me at least help you stand up. It will buy us a few seconds of time before the Captain kills you for getting yourself injured on a simple away mission.â€ Malcolm leaned down and placed Tripâ€™s good arm over his shoulder.  
â€œYou didnâ€™t do much better, you know,â€ Trip bantered, biting his lip hard as Malcolm gently helped him onto his feet. â€œYou managed to get yourself temporarily paralyzed, and knocked unconscious, you know.â€ He swayed on his good foot dizzily, but he smiled.  
â€œI had a pretty good track record of avoiding trouble before meeting you,â€ Malcolm said, steadying Trip carefully.  
â€œAh, and thatâ€™s why your life was borinâ€™,â€ Trip shot back with a wince. He looked over the ledge they had taken refuge on and out into the morning sky. The land looked so harmless and pure, with greens and oranges that sparkled in a perfection that seemed almost unreal. It was hard to believe that at nighttime, that land was riddled with dangerous creatures and debilitating storms.  
A small object appeared just over the horizon, and the two men glanced at each other in anticipation. It was the shuttlepod, coming to take them home.


End file.
